was hoping you’d say that. Just for a few minutes, thaw out a bit before I head back out into that. In here, yeah?”
He was already halfway into the living room. “Can I get you something to drink?” I asked.
I was about to offer tea or coffee, but he said cheerfully—shouldering off his coat, nodding at my glass of whiskey on the coffee table—“I’ll join you, yeah, if you’ve got any to spare. Might as well get a silver lining out of the car being down.”
I went to the kitchen and found another glass. My mind was spinning—I know that bit? how had he known that bit? and what was he doing here, anyway? “Lovely gaff,” Martin said, when I got back; he had settled into the armchair nearest the fire and was looking around appreciatively. “My missus likes everything shiny, know what I mean? Lots of chrome, lots of bright colors, everything put away all nice. It’s great, don’t get me wrong, but me, if I was a single man”—he patted the arm of the ratty old damask chair—“I’d be living like this. Or as near as I could get, on my salary.”
I laughed automatically, handing him the glass. He lifted it. “Cheers.”
“Cheers,” I said, sitting down on the edge of the sofa and reaching for my own glass.
Martin threw back a big gulp and blew out air. “Ahhh. That’s a gorgeous whiskey, that is. Your uncle’s a man of taste.” He had put on a little weight since spring, and cut his hair closer. Ruddy from the cold, legs stretched out to the fire, he looked right at home, some prosperous burgher relaxing after a hard day’s work. I hoped fervently that Hugo wouldn’t pick this moment to wake up and wander downstairs. “How’ve you been keeping?”
“OK. I’ve been taking some time out to look after my uncle.”
“Nice of your boss, giving you the time off. He’s a sound man. Fond of you.”
“It’s not for long,” I said, idiotically.
He nodded. “Sorry to hear that. How’s the uncle doing?”
“As good as he can be, I guess. He’s . . .” The unstrung hands, the void before something behind his eyes came back and found me. The word I was looking for was diminishing, but I couldn’t find it and wouldn’t have used it anyway. “He’s tired.”
Martin nodded sympathetically. “My granddad went the same way. It’s tough, the watching and waiting. It’s a bastard. The only thing I can tell you is, he never had any pain. Just got weaker and weaker, till one morning he collapsed and”—one soft snap of his fingers—“just like that. I know that’s not a lot of comfort, man. But compared to what we were afraid of . . . It could’ve been a lot worse.”
“Thanks,” I said. “We’re just taking it day by day.”
“That’s all you can do. Come here, before I forget”—groping inside his coat, slung casually over the arm of the chair—“here’s what I came for.” He pulled out a twisted plastic bag and leaned across, with a grunt, to hand it to me.
Inside was Melissa’s cast-iron candlestick. It felt heavier than I remembered, colder and less easy in my hand, as if it were made of some different and unfamiliar substance. I almost asked him if he was sure he had the right one.
“Sorry for the delay,” Martin said, rearranging himself in the armchair and taking another swig of whiskey. “The Tech Bureau’s always backlogged, and something like this—no one died, no suspects on the radar—it’s not going to get priority.”
“Right,” I said. “Did they . . . ? I mean, am I allowed to ask? Did they find anything on it?”
“Ask away; sure, if it’s not your business, whose is it? No prints; you were right about the gloves. Plenty of blood and a few bits of skin and hair, but it was all yours—don’t worry, I had the Bureau give that a good wash.” A small fierce pulse twitched through my scar. I caught myself before I put my hand up to it.
“Thanks,” I said.
“I want to reassure you here, man. This doesn’t mean we’re giving up. Nothing like that. Me, doesn’t matter how long it takes, I clear my cases. New leads come in all the time. And it’s not like these fellas were criminal masterminds.” He grinned, a big hard confident grin. “Don’t you worry: we’ll get them.”
“Yeah,” I said. “That’s good.”
“You all right there? Didn’t mean to open up a can of worms.”